Nanoshock

by K C Alexander

  “Suck it up,” I replied blandly. “Go on, guess.”

  His eyes narrowed. “For a woman with few allies and a great deal of problems, you are dangerously close to losing what little help you have. Why do you insist on pushing?”

  It mirrored Indigo’s caution too closely, and too soon. That stung. And I refused to take it from a corp tool.

  “Fine.” I sat up, feet firmly where he didn’t want them. “How much are you getting paid for that vid, Malik?”

  His eyebrow rose. “You’re speaking nonsense. Get,” he repeated slowly, “your feet off my table.”

  I searched his face. Or the mask he wore over his face, anyway. Nobody could be that stone cool, not all the time. Unless he was and maybe his wife liked that?

  No accounting for taste.

  “You heard me,” I began, and swore when one large hand wrapped around my left foot. Swung hard enough that both legs sailed off the surface. I jerked upright before the chair tilted, surged to my feet. His strength always surprised me. The way that hungry part of my libido responded did not.

  “Hands off the merchandise,” I snapped.

  “That’s right,” he replied thinly, and seized my dangling tie in one large fist. He jerked me close enough that the edge of the table slammed into my hips, catching on bone. This was new.

  And hot.

  And pushing my every fucking button. The violent ones.

  “You,” he said slowly, every word stretched to the max, “are merchandise. Contracted and paid by me. I expect–”

  Yeah, right. Two of my fingers locked into a point in his wrist, and he let me go so fast it was like I’d grated his knuckles off. His expression blackened, white teeth revealed in a soundless lip curl. I watched him flex his tingling hand, the moment of whatever the hell was eating him turning into cool appraisal. Beyond him, a few technicians broke whatever willpower kept them looking elsewhere. Outright shock, furrowed surprise.

  Yeah, I’d just assaulted their boss. Come at me.

  “Screw your expectations,” I said flatly. “You betrayed me, didn’t you?”

  He stared at me. Like I’d just grown an extra finger to flip him off with.

  My turn to power lean, taking advantage of the space he’d dragged me into. “How much are you getting for that vid?”

  “Riko.” Flat calm, eerily cold compared to that heated display of aggression. “I don’t know what you’re getting around to and I do not have time to humor you. You have a job, you have a team. Anything festering in your childish brain can wait until after.”

  “You hear me out first,” I shot back, low. Furious. Menace cut like knives – and to my shame, my voice shook.

  He heard it. Damn it. Reed paused, arms folded across his chest. Jaw tight, he took a breath and let it out on a curt, “You have my attention.”

  My fingers bit into the metal surface. Only one side scratched. “You remember that vid I grabbed?”

  He nodded, a single inclination so regal I wanted to punch his teeth out. No callbox protocols to interfere this time.

  “I got notice today that somebody’s pushing it to market.” My flesh hand fisted, already sealed like I hadn’t cut it on ceramic. “If it goes live, I’m as good as dead. You realize that, right?”

  “What,” he said evenly, “does this have to do with me?”

  “Basic,” I snapped back. “Cunting. Math.”

  “You have a mouth.”

  “I will tear your girly lips off,” I snarled. “Only two of you know that thing exists.” I leaned forward even more, shoving my own hips into the table so hard that the legs screeched against the pristine floor. My tech hand matched the sound, nails on rust and twice as loud. The abrasions left behind earned me a disapproving frown. “From scouts to ambush to my cred up for auction. Why do you fucking think I’m asking you?”

  His sigh made me want to climb over the table and rip his lungs out. Shoving them up his ass, wet and pulpy, sounded like my idea of heaven.

  Except I needed the job he’d put together. Battery wouldn’t wait long.

  “What makes you think Mr Koupra isn’t behind this?”

  Because I refused. I’d cling to that thread for as long as it held me. What the hell else did I have to lose? “I will,” I promised quietly, counter to the flash of red in my vision, “come over this table. Watch your mouth or I’ll stuff your dick in it.”

  He held up his hands. Not placating. Not afraid. A reminder, a warning, to zen it. “If that seems impossible for you–” A touch of mockery, like he thought me naïve. “–perhaps you should consider the fact MetaCorp attained that information from the same place you did.”

  “Digo erased it all.”

  “If they owned the Vid Zone’s center the way they own Battery’s, they’d have other options.”

  That made more sense than I wanted. Slowly, I straightened. Pulled my body and my temper away from Malik Reed’s reach, the throb in my shoulder sharpening to a trickle of imaginary nerves on fire. “You make a point.”

  “I appreciate your acknowledgment.” Gone was the sympathy. Back was the quirk at the corner of his mouth, and unreadable dark eyes. “You’re going to be late for your physical.” A beat. “Again.”

  “Eat shit and die.” I straightened that stupid tie again. “If I find out otherwise, Malik…”

  I let the threat linger. No slouch, he picked it right up. “If you find out otherwise,” he continued mildly, “you may do as you like with me.”

  Well.

  I didn’t expect that.

  I shoved both hands into the pockets of my drop-crotch pants. “That doesn’t clear you.”

  A nod.

  “You realize I’m only working with you to get intel, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going to do everything I can to beat your mooks to it.”

  “Do not kill them,” he replied, “and you may do whatever you want.”

  I stared at him. “You really don’t care about people, do you?”

  An eyebrow. “Incorrect. My tools are finely honed and specialized. Your efforts,” he said pointedly, “will not affect mine.”

  Heh. I turned for the door. “Fine. I’ll go play with your jackwagons.”

  “I expect,” he said to my back, that authority he wielded like a knife sliding deep into my spine, “you will share your intel with me upon return.”

  My meat shoulder lifted, “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’re so kind.”

  “I know.” I flicked a hand back in a dismissive wave. “It’s a redeeming feature.”

  “Not as much as that ass, I believe.”

  I almost tripped on the floor. Fuuuuuck. A direct reference to the pink arrow I’d forgotten was bare at the back of my tank. I swear to Indigo’s asshole, it annoyed me so much that Reed had an absurd talent at deadpan humor. I had no idea if he meant to, or if he was the world’s ultimate straight man. I gritted my teeth and shot him a glare over my shoulder.

  He’d crossed his arms over his chest again. Watched me go with appraisal in his eyes. More challenge than I wanted.

  Didn’t like that, either.

  “Go fuck yourself,” I said.

  “I’m considering tech for that.”

  I hate him so very, very much. The doors closed on my laugh.

  It didn’t last long. The frayed remnants of humor vanished.

  Somehow, I felt better about Malik’s role in the vid’s leak. No way would he offer his skin up like that.

  Not unless he had every expectation I’d fail. A nasty gamble on his part.

  Childish brain, huh? That one stuck as I stomped down the corridor. Fuck him. Shows what he knew about SINless ways of life, and the thin glue that holds it together. His people would not love to have me among them. Not my fault. They were the ones who tried to nut up at me. What these suitfuckers don’t realize is that nutting up means an easy boot to the testicles, and how was I supposed to resist it when the idiots are so quick to s
ack up in my face?

  Whatever. Let them whine and cry when I didn’t play nice. My goal was to beat them to any data in there, and I’d have to do it without Indigo to work his linker magic. I’d screw Malik’s wife before I let that data fall into some asshole enforcer’s hands. I was already feeling like my ass was hanging in the open.

  The way I operated, I was going to bruise a lot of egos.

  Sounded like Reed’s problem.

  Probably should have known better.

  15

  Another lab. This one very much a problem. A pristine white floor, pristine white walls. Med tech and metal exam tables, technicians in white lab coats. I sat on an aluminum stool, waiting my turn for scans, and tried to breathe through my cramping lungs.

  Even with my head tipped down, the light in the med lab burned bright as Carmichael’s gown, unflinchingly pure in color. White-blue, sharp enough to cut into closed eyelids.

  “Hey, Channing, bet you I can beat your time.” A woman’s voice. One of the enforcers.

  “The fuck you can,” Channing shot back.

  I flinched. It was so similar to a conversation between Indigo and me that I could barely hold my shit together. My eyes snapped open, the floor beyond my knees blurred.

  Somewhere between the relaxed back and forth of my coerced team and the smell of disinfectant, I forgot to blink. Forgot entirely to breathe until the cramp in my lungs screamed. Then I tried to inhale slowly and quietly.

  To keep my shit mine.

  Kind of worked. Like a hard crash after an adrenaline run. Focusing on the here and now, taking in the cold hygienic air and the plain white ceiling, wasn’t helping. For every second I tried, I lost that much more detail. Until I couldn’t remember what I was staring at. Couldn’t remember what the fuck shone harsh and unflinching down on me, only that it cut through my nerves like a sawblade through a baby.

  Blood on white tile.

  Voices shouting.

  Pain shrieking through my head. A sharp crescendo. Once, twice.

  Sedative, now!

  It translated to a quiet, insistent buzz. A low-grade hum that knocked somewhere around my chipset, centered at the base of my skull. Hated this sound. It cropped up now and again, and it made me feel… haunted. Claustrophobic. Like tearing off my skin was a good idea.

  I was stuck. Stuck with the growing tendril of panic unfurling from the black hole swirling in my chest, stuck with the panic and anxiety and fight, flight, freeze instinct that swamped me.

  I didn’t fly. Or freeze. Wasn’t the type.

  Can’t fight.

  My fingers grasped at the edges of the table on either side of me.

  Cold. Hard. An autopsy slab.

  Blood on white tile–

  Zen it.

  Couldn’t.

  A blur settled in front of my staring eyes, a mix of white and screaming orange-red. “Hey.” A quiet greeting. A soothing voice. “Riko.” It cut through the noise, managed to isolate the only part of my brain keyed in to the here and now.

  I blinked. My eyelids scraped over my dried-out eyeballs. My grimace showed a lot of teeth, but I straightened. Made like nothing had gone down. A quick glance at one of the large digital clocks scattered around the lab told me I’d been buried for twenty minutes.

  Shit.

  Unlike most people in her profession, Dr Orchard of the unpronounceable last name wasn’t afraid of me. My attitude had never fazed her, which I found curious. She crouched in front of me, long limbs folded up, sharp elbows on her thighs for balance. Her wavy orange hair stood out in the whitescape of this hell like fire in a padded room.

  I liked it. It was fun to look at, see all the little strands of yellow and red and brown in the pumpkin mass. Given a face full of freckles that did for her what they didn’t do for Reed and her guileless blue eyes, I assumed she’d been born with all of it.

  Those freckles winked and shifted as her wide mouth bent into a smile. A real one. “Welcome back.”

  I pretended like she’d missed me. “It’s only been a couple weeks.” I managed light.

  Orchard knew better. She’d had my number since the day I’d tossed her over my shoulder in a fit of what she called traumatic flashbacks. It was, I knew, the reason she blocked the view between the others and me. Protecting my rep.

  I just didn’t know what to do with that.

  “You able to stand?”

  My back stiffened. Across the lab, my soon-to-be-teammates laughed and joked, snapped at each other in that familiar way longtime teams could. “Why the tits wouldn’t I?”

  Overt aggression.

  A tinge of hurt crept over Orchard’s features, creating an equal tinge of mirrored guilt. Which the black hole in my chest quickly latched onto.

  Why the fuck was I so awful to her?

  Because I was a goddamned cunt, that’s why.

  I set my jaw. “Thanks.”

  “I’m here for you,” she said, hurt fading. Unlike everybody else, I accepted her sympathy. It was the kind of compassion you get from people who want to patch up your bullet holes and stich your stab wounds. She unfolded from her crouch, long-fingered hands beckoning me. And when I say unfold, I mean it. She was fine-boned and tall, like one of the genetically recreated birds they put in zoos. She sat in chairs like a kid, with one or both legs folded up, and on stools like she didn’t realize she’d fall off with just a sneeze. “Let’s get you prepped.”

  Another lab tech, a large man with blond hair, looked up from the projections he studied. Gunther Leto. Nice enough guy, but protective of Orchard and the lab. I hadn’t broken anything so far, so he waved at me. “Heading out with this group?” he called.

  “Seems like.” Look at that, I managed to sound normal.

  The enforcer next to him grimaced at me – probably the one teasing Channing. Her brown hair was pulled tightly back into a knot, the Kongtown cast to her features easily recognizable. Almost as tall as me, with muscled limbs hanging from her white medical gown and brown eyes spitting not by choice.

  I was so on that wavelength.

  Leto flashed me a thumbs up.

  “Scans only?” I asked Orchard.

  “Scans, physical health.” She looked back over her shoulder as I followed her through the maze of equipment. “Do you still refuse to let me in?”

  “Depends on where you’re trying to go.”

  Orchard only smiled, a rueful shake of her head causing her curly ponytail to sway. “I wish you’d let me work on your tech.”

  Ugh. It was like I flirted with a brick wall, she was so clueless.

  Fact is, the only time Orchard had been in my setup, I’d been delivered by an extraction crew with rebar in my chest and necro nanos flooding my system. I couldn’t stop her then, and I had no doubt she’d recorded everything. I wouldn’t willingly do it again.

  We passed the white-haired enforcer, who shot me that feral smile of hers. “That’s Banh.” She nodded to the woman who was not Feliz. “You met Lindsay. My name’s Damrosch,” she told me. The wires hooked up to the adhesive on her chest vibrated with the waggle of her fingers. So not cute. “Make sure you remember it.”

  I shot her back my own kind of smile. “Thanks. I’ll scream it next time I fuck your mom.”

  Surprising me, Damrosch threw back her head and laughed. It echoed through the lab, got everybody else’s attention.

  “Christ, Tera.” Lindsay, obviously sulking. I couldn’t see him in the mash of technical equipment, but he’d be hooked up somewhere too. Scans first.

  “It’s good to make friends,” Orchard said mildly to us both. “Stop moving, please,” she added.

  Damrosch’s grin remained. “Oops.”

  Orchard beckoned me to a curtained room – the same one I’d stepped into when I’d first visited. Same one in which I’d thrown her over my shoulder when I first buckled. I’d gotten better about controlling it. At least in that I didn’t jump her shit when she touched me. “Clothes off, gown on.”

&nbs
p; I was already reaching for the tie at my neck when Orchard paused. When she bent to look at it up close, her hair bounced over her shoulder.

  She smelled like something sweet. Not candy. Flowers? The fragrance filled my nostrils. Somehow, it helped ease some of my tension. The scent was just so Orchard.

  “Is that a tie?”

  “Heh.” My only response. I stared at the fall of her orange hair like it’d bite me in the face if I didn’t pay attention. When she straightened again, I took a deep breath. Antiseptic washed away the lingering lightness of her hair, from sweet to acid. Why I did it, I wasn’t sure. I just felt like maybe I wasn’t supposed to smell something, be close to something, that nice.

  “Has Mr Reed seen it?” she asked, laughing.

  “Oh, yeah.” He’d used it as a weapon, too, which I’d return in kind another time. I shot my hand up into the air and gave the room a general middle finger as I dropped the stained tie to the floor.

  “I keep telling you. There are no cameras in here.”

  “I keep telling you bullshit,” I replied, and stepped inside the curtained room. I left the thing open behind me as I peeled the dirty tank top up my sticky body.

  Orchard tugged the thin barrier closed.

  Giving up on any sense of good behavior, I kicked my boots off. Sent them smack into the sheet, which swung and flared out, revealing Orchard’s electric blue sneakers under the hem of her white scrubs. Wordlessly, she bent to pick my boots up. And the tie.

  Good freaking riddance.

  Shimmying out of my pants took longer. Loose as the harem pants were, they’d dried stiff. So had my meatsack. I was tired, hitting strained reserves.

  Once I managed to peel the fabric away from my legs, the rest followed easily, leaving me bare to the cold lab air. I hesitated, dug my fingertips into my chest where my heart pounded hard enough to throb in my temples.

  Keep it together.

  Taking a deep breath put my metaphorical feet on the motherfucking ground.

  I grabbed the curtain and threw it wide. Nakedness didn’t bother me. I had less modesty than a pornstar on an up close and personal vag feed. Orchard, however, didn’t share my interests. A white gown hit me with almost preternatural speed, immediately covering my body from breast to crotch. Catching it caused it to drape, revealing my shoulders, ribs, and most of my thighs. And all my ass, which I did not turn around and shake at her.